Wait For Me - Marble Hornets FanFic
by HazelEyedLeah
Summary: Cay has no clue where she's at, or how she got there. All she has is the clothes on her back and a notebook. (OC-Cadence)
1. Entry 1

**_Y(X)U_****_ CAN TRUST HIM_**

**Entry #1**

I don't know where I am. It's getting dark and it's cold. Isn't it the middle of summer?

I'm in a small dilapidated building in the middle of the woods – I don't recognize anything. I don't even recognize the clothes I'm in. Although I'm thankful for the warmth they give.

I woke up with this notebook next to me. And it has my handwriting on the inside cover (although the X through the O's is new), but I don't remember writing it…

Who's 'Him'?

I'll think about it later… I have a horrible headache, I keep coughing, and I'm exhausted. I think I'll lie down in the cot in the corner. Maybe some sleep is what I need.

* * *

A/N: This is purely a trial run to see if I can stick with this - or if I even like it. If you have any suggestions for plot, I'd be happy to consider them!


	2. Entry 2

**Entry #2**

I still can't remember anything. And when I try to force myself to remember things, it seems like it slips away quicker.

I should write down what I know. My name's Cadence McKenna, although I also respond to Cay. I can't remember my last name. I'm either nineteen or twenty – my memory keeps switching between the two, so I either just had my birthday, or was just about to. I was adopted because my biological parents thought that it would 'help' me. Whatever that means. And I live with my friend Jessica.

I should probably write down my last memory before that slips away too…

I was going to a family reunion of sorts. It was more of a housewarming party, since my grandparents had just moved into a larger country home. The previous owners abandoned the house, and it had gone up for auction.

We all got a grand tour, and after, the adults fell into conversation, and the kids began to play outdoors. I had always been the odd one out – too young to feel too connected with my older family, too single to fit in with my married cousins, and too old to fit in with my little cousins.

I began to wander towards the big old barn on the edge of their property, right before the wooded tree line. The big door creaked open, and I stepped inside, telling myself ghost stories as I edged around. The musty air and a few sunbeams casting shadows around the room set the atmosphere, and each whine of the building settling caused my heart to jump.

Eventually after having explored the whole first floor of the barn and deciding that only someone with a death wish would climb the rafters to the rotted out second floor, I began looking for a basement or cellar. Something more to explore before I had to go back to boring mingling with my family.

When I finally found a stairway down to a basement door, it was covered up with lots of junk. Almost as if someone had tried to hide it.

Thinking back, I should have considered that the door was triple locked and braced with a sturdy wood board for a reason, but unfortunately that only made me more curious as to what was behind it, and I only gave it a passing, 'That's rather strange.'

I remember breaking the locks with some sort of heavy metal tool I found lying around, removing the board, and opening the door.

After that? Nothing.

I don't know why, but I feel exhausted. Everything aches. I've had to take several breaks writing this down. I think I'll take a nap…


	3. Entry 3

**Entry #3**

When I finally woke up, there was a note next to the bed.

"WAIT F(X)R ME"

The note was all crinkled, and the handwriting looks similar to my own writing at the front of my notebook – the same weird O's and everything.

Whoever wrote the note is going to get their wish. I'm in no condition to go anywhere. Even after two nights (and most of two days) of sleep, I'm weak and exhausted. I can hardly move I ache so much.

Someone was here while I was asleep. The very thought gives me the creeps.

Speaking of creeps, there's a man outside the shed looking around. He has a hoody and a strange black mask on. Is this the guy that wrote the note? Is this the 'Him' I was referring to that I should be trusting?

I may be curious, but I'm not walking up to some nut job just to find out if he wrote something. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach when I look at this guy. My instincts are normally pretty trustworthy.

He keeps walking all around outside, and he's tried peering into the boarded up windows. He almost acts as if he's looking for something. Or someone.

Could he be looking for me? That's ridiculous.

… Right?

I'm in the attic writing this. Just in case. I'm watching him through cracks and rusted through bits of the roof.

Even though it's rather cool outside, the tin (or whatever type of metal) roof is making this place uncomfortably warm. Although I suppose being uncomfortable is better than murdered.

I'm so tired, but I have to keep an eye on the hooded man.


	4. Entry 4

**Entry #4**

I must have fallen asleep in the attic. Which in hindsight was a very bad idea.

I'm lying in the cot with a fever, complete with hallucinations.

How I go into the cot is anyone's guess. I have a feeling that there's been someone with me, but I can't remember anything about the person. Just that there's been… I don't really know how to explain it better than a 'presence.'

Kind of like being somewhere public and knowing there's people around you, but you don't know who they are or what they look like.

… Sort of. I feel a little fuzzy and out of it, so I might not be making any sense.

Anyways, this is one of my moments of semi-clarity, in which I'm not screaming at some imaginary monster, so I figured I'd do something worthwhile – recording the nature of the hallucinations.

Looking back, I can tell relatively what was real and what wasn't. Although it was horrifyingly real while it was happening.

A recurring hallucination I had was seeing a very tall, pale man without a face. And whenever I saw him, I'd feel confused and sick, and there was this buzzing noise, like standing too close to something electric.

There were other hallucinations too, but nothing I can specifically remember.

Anyways, whenever I saw the faceless guy, I'd start to scream. In my mind, he was a horrible monster who wanted to kill me in torturous ways. But that's ridiculous, since he couldn't have seen anything with his lack of eyes.

I also had a few things that I _think_ might have been memories. They're pretty weird to be memories, but they didn't feel the same as the hallucinations. They might be memories muddled by the fever, because they don't make a lot of sense.

For example, one of them I remember was being dragged away from the barn into the woods by something terrifying, and screaming for help.

See, that wouldn't happen normally. So they must be mixed up.

Or there were other ones that were sort of normal like walking or running through the woods. There was actually a lot of running in my memories.

No wonder I feel restless.

But I'm too exhausted to do anything about it. It feels like the fever has broken, and I need to get rest if ever going to get better.


	5. Entry 5

**Entry #5**

I woke up this morning warmer and more comfortable than I had been in a while. I was snuggled up to, and half laying on, a warm body. Of course in my morning haze, I didn't think anything of it. But then came the blood chilling realization.

Who in the world was sleeping next to me?

I pushed whoever it was off of the cot, and scrambled backwards until my back hit a wall, panicked and on the verge of hyperventilation. The man that had been sleeping next to me had awoken instantly, and was crouched on the floor in a fighting stance, the mask on his face hiding exactly where he was looking. After a few seconds of checking the room for immediate danger, the masked man slowly stood up, apparently finding nothing that worried him. He turned his face towards me and cocked his head to the side, silently questioning why I had woken him and was now huddled on the floor and shaking. I just blinked up at him, not able to form words, much less questions.

A soft creak from the other room made him go into 'fight mode' again, and he silently grabbed an iron pipe from beside the bed and snuck over to the open door, pressing himself into the wall next to it and listening for more noises.

After a second or two he was satisfied that there was nothing, but looked around the doorjamb just to be sure.

I watched as his shoulders relaxed, and he walked back over to the cot, gently setting the pipe next to it so that it wouldn't make noise.

Turning to me, he considered me for a moment before coming closer. I tried shrinking back, but unfortunately I had trapped myself in a corner. Good going, Cay, good going.

He crouched down next to me, and tilted his head to the side. His mask making the normally innocent, questioning gesture seem sinister.

His mask was completely creeping me out. It was pure white, but around the eyes was painted completely black, almost reaching the outside edge, and thin eyebrows arched dramatically above them. The lips were also painted black, but were small and almost delicate.

I realized I was staring, and suddenly the silence felt extremely awkward. I didn't get the same feeling of dread around him that I had around the hooded man, and so for now, I felt I could trust the masked man NOT to kill me horribly. Also given the fact that he hadn't killed me in my sleep definitely earned him some brownie points.

Maybe this was the 'Him'?

"H-h-hell-hello," I winced internally. I sounded really freaked out. So about par with how I was feeling, really.

I cleared my throat. "Y-you wrote the paper?" I asked, trying to find the note in my pocket without looking away. I pulled it out finally and showed him.

His eyes flicked to the paper, and nodded.

"Were you the one who helped me while I was sick?"

Again a nod.

Wow. A real conversationalist. "Uhhh… What's your name?" I asked, feeling a little bolder.

He tilted his head to the side.

I mirrored his look, puzzling things out in my head. It seemed to amuse him, for his eyes crinkled up slightly. "I'm guessing you don't talk then?"

Again, another quick nod.

"So I'm going to have to just ask you yes or no questions?"

He shrugged.

I gave a little snort of laughter, and I rested my head against the wall, suddenly feeling very tired. "I'm getting a strong, 'Or you could shut up' vibe."

I saw his eyes crinkle up even more, and at that, he stood up, offering me his hand.

I took it, and he pulled me to my feet. I tried not to show how feeble I was because of the fever, but I must not have done a good job, because he put an arm around my waist and helped me over to the bed.

I collapsed onto it, and managed a muttered "Thank you," before I slipped off.

Although I could've sworn that I felt the mask's lips brush my forehead. It must have been my imagination, though. He wouldn't have done that.

… Would he?


End file.
